Two Faced
by Inksaber
Summary: Sometimes, after a hard, long mission, the Winter Soldier starts remembering. Most often, he remembers Steve. Rumlow happens to be there when he does. Slight spoilers for Civil War.


**So this, again, is different territory for me. I got really inspired by all the summaries going around for the Civil War footage they showed at D23 and so this happened. Once again, there are spoilers beyond this point for Civil War, but they aren't major or anything. Enjoy :)**

* * *

In the beginning, there are no signs that anything's wrong. The Asset sits in the chair as a doctor attends to him after his latest mission and he's calm, placid, obedient, like he's supposed to be. Rumlow knows the handlers are concerned, though—the Asset has hardly ever spent this much time out of cryofreeze before. The mission took a week to complete; a long, but necessary week. Now, Alexander Pierce wants the Asset wiped and frozen as quickly as possible before—

Well. Before _something_ happens. Rumlow was never debriefed as to what that _something_ was.

He's never worked on a HYDRA project as important as this one and he's honoured that Secretary Pierce would allow him in on the secret, let alone let him guard HYDRA's most invaluable weapon. There are only a handful of people in the world who have been trusted with the knowledge of the Winter Soldier, and now Rumlow is among them. Moving up the ranks of HYDRA has been his goal since he first joined under the guise of becoming a SHIELD agent, and as HYDRA moves closer to a new world order, it's finally happening.

The Asset stares blankly into space as a technician fixes his arm and cleans up his scrapes, but that's normal, according to the briefing. He's been through enough memory wipes that he's probably got some brain damage, but he still functions at top performance in the field, so no one complains.

Besides, it's _creepy_ when he talks.

The Asset wrinkles his brow, like he's concentrating hard on something. Rumlow steps forward out of curiosity—this is the first time he's changed expression since Rumlow went on duty—and the Asset fixes that thousand-yard stare on him.

"Grab my hand," he says hoarsely.

"What?" Rumlow says, startled.

"'S the last thing he said to me. Grab my hand."

Rumlow looks around at the other guards and technicians, but no one does anything. They're all more experienced in dealing with the Asset than he is, but...

"Who? The target?" Unlikely, the target was a Japanese billionaire the Winter Soldier shot from two skyscrapers away. Rumlow doubts he ever said a word to the man.

The Winter Soldier shakes his head, glances away. "I don't—he was important. Before."

Before. Before the Winter Soldier, before HYDRA. The Asset is remembering.

Rumlow blinks once, twice, then flicks his eyes up to the technician, who nods and starts up the mind wipe machine. The Asset's eyes go wide and terrified, before they settle into something approaching defiance as he allows himself to be chained to the chair.

 _Interesting,_ Rumlow thinks. So this is the _something_ that happens when the Winter Soldier is out of cryofreeze for too long. He remembers.

"Has this happened before?" he asks Langley, who's done this at least twice already. Langley shrugs.

"Every couple o' missions he starts jabbering nonsense," he says, disinterested. "Then they wipe 'im clean, no more problems." He turns to Rumlow then, eyes sharp. "Tip for next time—don't indulge him. The only reason you're here now is cause the Asset got all worked up and we had to scrape the last guy off the walls, you hear? He's a danger to himself and others if he starts to remember, it's why we do this to him."

"There's got to be a better way if he keeps breaking down every few missions," Rumlow muses. "He's unreliable this way. Unstable."

Langley frowns at him. "He's also the best soldier we've got, and if there were a better way, I reckon Secretary Pierce would have found it by now. You're new here, kid, so shut your mouth, especially around that soldier. For your own good."

Rumlow's not finished yet, he has _ideas_ for this project—but he _is_ new here, so for now he'll bite his tongue, be a good kid, and one day he'll voice his opinions to Secretary Pierce himself. "Understood. Sir."

"None of that," Langley says roughly, but he seems pleased by the respect. He inclines his head towards the chair. "Now, you might want to cover your ears. Lotsa the new guys can't stomach this part."

"What do you mean?" Rumlow begins to ask, but his question is answered by an anguished shriek from the chair. The Winter Soldier arches up in agony as the machine wipes him blank, positively vibrating with torment, and yeah, Rumlow can see why this would be disturbing to some guys.

For him, though...

The Winter Soldier is an unstoppable force. Unbeatable in the field, the best sniper in the world, a ghost story by the campfire. He's almost larger than life, and yet it's HYDRA who has tamed him, brought him to his knees, trained him to obey. He's powerful, yes, but only because HYDRA has made him so. The Winter Soldier is theirs to make or break, and seeing one of the best assassins in the world as a broken, broken man...

Rumlow _delights_ in it.

Langley must see something in his face, because as the guards file out of the bank vault, he says in Rumlow's ear, "You know, maybe you were cut out for this job after all."

* * *

Rumlow is called in to guard the Asset post-mission three times over the next five years. The first two times go by uneventfully. Rumlow keeps his distance, the Asset gives his mission report, they wipe him and back in cryofreeze he goes. Easy and painless all the way around.

The third time he walks into the bank, the Asset is half delirious from the pain of three broken ribs and a deep cut in his stomach that's somehow gotten infected. The doctors are confident he'll recover with no complications, but cryofreeze will have to wait since they need his body to heal naturally for a while. Rumlow, who's not looking forward to standing guard in a bank vault for a few days, sighs. He wants a raise.

He and three other guards trade shifts for the first few days. Alexander Pierce drops in on Rumlow's fourth shift, demanding a mission report, but other than that, the vault is quiet; dark shadows and the heavy smell of sickness mixed with antiseptic linger in the air. The machines around the Winter Soldier flash and blink, reflecting off of gold bars that remind Rumlow that this is still a cage.

Yeah, he really wants a raise after this, because it's up there as one of the most boring missions ever.

On the third night, the Asset is sleeping fitfully on the cot they'd brought in for him and Rumlow is the only one in the vault with him. He leans against the wall, smothering a yawn. Maybe he can convince one of the other guards to break into the bank to bring him a coffee. McRiley would probably see it as a challenge.

"Steve..."

Rumlow glances up quickly, immediately alert. He scans the room for threats, but it's dark and empty, apart from himself and the Asset.

The Asset, whose eyes are open, staring at something Rumlow can't see.

"Steve," he mumbles again, and a chill goes down Rumlow's spine.

He knows the Asset's history, who he was before. He'd been handed a file during his briefing before joining the other guards. Though a lot of it was redacted, one thing was clear—the Winter Soldier was once James Buchanan Barnes, and Steve Rogers' best friend.

The Asset doesn't know any Steves now. Rumlow is willing to bet his right arm that he's remembering again.

It's 3 AM. There's nobody around but him. What the hell is he supposed to do now?

With caution, he approaches the Asset, who's muttering unintelligibly and shifting on the cot. Rumlow sort of wants to shake him out of it, but he also values his limbs, so instead he grips his gun tighter and says in his most commanding voice, "Soldier!"

The Asset goes still and his head lolls towards Rumlow. He looks feverish and wild, and although he's currently lying weak in a bed, Rumlow feels a lurch of apprehension. He pushes it down. The Winter Soldier is at his most powerless right now. There's nothing to worry about.

"Where's Steve?" asks the Asset.

Well. That might be something to worry about.

It's 2012. Steve Rogers is currently being hailed as a hero for saving the world from an alien invasion. At this point, it might be a bad idea to let the Asset know that.

"He's dead," Rumlow tells him harshly. The Asset's face twists up in childlike confusion, but he doesn't get angry. Rumlow wonders if he's just too sick or if he doesn't remember why he should be angry.

"'S not right," he says, weary. "He was supposed to go home. Anyone was gonna live through the war, it should have been him, not me."

"Don't think you did either, Barnes," Rumlow mutters, too low for the Asset tohear him, but the feverish eyes sharpen on him anyway.

"Yeah," he croaks, "maybe you're right."

Swallowing, Rumlow presses the emergency button on his walkie-talkie, the one that'll get the doctors and technicians in here within fifteen minutes. Everyone had been in agreement that a wipe at this point would be too strenuous on the Asset's body, that it would be better to wait, but now Rumlow disagrees. This fever is burning through more than infection—it's burning through the blocks on his memory, and that could get ugly if the Asset starts remembering everything they've done to him.

He'll focus on the good stuff so the Asset doesn't end up killing him out of rage. They can always wipe it out later.

"Tell me about Steve, come on," he says, and a new light comes into the Asset's eyes. For a second, he looks like a different man entirely.

"Idiot," breathes Barnes—no, the Asset. "He's a goddamn idiot."

"An idiot," prompts Rumlow when the Asset doesn't seem to be inclined to say anymore.

"Yeah. Was always savin' his skin in alleys back home when he tried to pick a fight too big for him. He's too... too selfless for his own good."

It could be good, Rumlow realizes, to learn Captain America's strengths and weaknesses before he joins SHIELD officially. He has a window here. Interrogation is something he's good at and Barne—the Asset seems happy to share.

"He good in a fight?"

The Asset nods. "Think so. Deadly with that shield. Someone—" and here he pauses, thinking for a name they must have burned out of him ages ago,"—someone taught him to fall and land safely and so now he tries his luck jumpin outta exploding tanks 'n buildings. Like I said. Idiot."

Barnes' use of present tense is not lost on Rumlow. His brain is so scrambled and disoriented that he can't even remember what century it is.

"How about a gun?" Rumlow pries. "Bet he was handy with one of those."

"Hell no," slurs Barnes. "'S why he had me. The shield's nice, but it's not enough. He's gonna get himself killed."

Yeah, Rumlow thinks, he is.

He keeps Barnes talking for the next five minutes about anything and everything. He doesn't remember much, and there are a few times that Rumlow has to steer him away from dangerous territory, but in the end, he's learned a lot about Steve Rogers that will be useful in the future.

The man is a fighter who cares too much about protecting those who can't stick up for themselves. He'll put himself in harm's way in a second if it means saving the innocent, and he prefers not to use a gun.

Thanks, Barnes.

A lesser man might feel guilty about interrogating a sick amnesiac who clearly latched on to the first person who would listen to and not punish him. Rumlow simply stands to let the doctors in and watches, emotionless, as they manhandle the Winter Soldier into the chair for another round of brainwashing. He fights them more than usual, thrashing and yelling, but eventually he submits, like he always does, and it's easy from there. Another successful interrogation.

* * *

"Nice to meet you," Rumlow tells Captain America two weeks later, and shakes his hand with the same hand he'd used to point a gun at the Captain's best friend.

The world is full of irony and Rumlow is loving it.

* * *

"I knew him," says the Asset, quiet but sure, and really, by this point they should have known better than to send him out again.

* * *

HYDRA burns, and the Triskelion burns and Rumlow burns past recognition, but they revive him, get him a suit and send him on his way. Rumlow hates the suit. It's recognizable, marks him as different, and after the Avengers dropped an entire European city into the ocean, nobody much likes being different anymore. There are talks of strife within the Avengers, of a Superhero Registration Act, and people are scared.

Which of course, makes it the perfect time to blow up half of Washington. Rumlow always has thrived on chaos, and HYDRA needs people frightened. So he sets off bombs in buildings, watches the glass and debris fall to the streets as the screaming begins. It's all going great, exactly according to plan.

And then Captain America arrives.

Later, much later, after bombings and fighting and the whole superhero team showing up, Rumlow ends up on his knees looking up at Steve Rogers. Stripped of power. Defeated.

Oddly, he wonders if this is how the Winter Soldier felt all the time.

"You know, he remembered you," he tells Rogers spitefully, thinking back to all those times in the vault. To, _"He was important. Before."_ To, _"He was a goddamn idiot."_ To, _"I knew him."_ Barnes' weakness is Rogers and he's willing to bet that Rogers' weakness is Barnes. "Your pal, your buddy, your _Bucky._ "

The look on Rogers' face is almost worth getting a building dropped on him.

"You knew."

"Of course I knew, Rogers, for years before you were even awake," says Rumlow in exasperation. "Someone had to handle him and it sure as hell wasn't going to be you."

Rogers' hands are clenched, as if he's itching to wrap them around Rumlow's neck. "We worked together, and all that time—"

"Yeah, I was on Winter Soldier duty," Rumlow says. "Ironic, isn't it? We got close, me and him." A lie, but Rogers doesn't know that. "He never remembered much, but when he did, it was all—" he pauses to get into character, "— _where's Steve? Who was the man on the bridge? I knew hi_ —"

The rest of his sentence is lost as a fist connects with his jaw and he crashes to the pavement, blinking stars from his vision. He looks up to see Rogers, hand still curled into a fist, mouth tight with anger, eyes furious.

"Go to hell, Rumlow," spits Rogers and Rumlow can't help but laugh.

"You know what Cap? I reckon I might see you there."

Before Rogers can reply to that, Romanoff comes running up, tucking her phone into her pocket. "Steve, there's been a sighting."

Rogers turns to her, hope washing away the rage from his race. "Where?"

"Romania."

There's a significant HYDRA base in Romania. Rumlow's been there before. He's got a pretty good guess as to what they hope to find.

"All this time and you're still looking," he says. "Ever consider that maybe Barnes doesn't want to be found?"

Rogers turns to him again with sparks in his eyes, but Romanoff catches him by the shoulder, turns him roughly to face her. "No time, Rogers, we have to go now. Falcon's bringing the jet around. Let Rhodes and Maximoff take care of this one."

Rogers hesitates, but only for a second. He nods to someone behind Rumlow, then the next second he and Romanoff are gone, vanishing into the smoke still rising in the aftermath of the fight.

War Machine and Scarlet Witch are left to take him into custody, but Rumlow doesn't pay much attention to them as they drag him up and into handcuffs. His thoughts are four thousand miles away in Romania, where the Winter Soldier is about to be ambushed by the Avengers.

Pity, really. HYDRA has been looking for him since SHIELD fell and they've turned up with nothing. It's been a race between all interested parties to find Bucky Barnes and it looks like Steve Rogers is about to win that race.

Rumlow remembers the cold fury in Rogers' eyes after he punched him and thinks that when it comes to Barnes, Rogers would win every time.

There are still HYDRA operatives in Romania though, and last Rumlow heard, the King of Wakanda was looking for Barnes too. Not to mention, Tony Stark would probably like Barnes' head for murdering his parents. The race isn't over yet.

 _Better run faster, Rogers,_ thinks Rumlow, and smiles.

* * *

 **As always, I appreciate feedback.**


End file.
